Of Luggage, Motos, and Recognition

The flight is long. It is very long. Too long. It is not your weekly commute. After a few thousand miles, I thought it would never end. Oh, I have flown the Pacific before – typically a couple of times a year. But, those flights were just the beginning of trips. This flight was the beginning of a journey.

I have no trouble sleeping on planes. It is an acquired skill, no doubt. I went to sleep before we pushed away from the gate, at LAX. Then, I woke up. From that point, the sleep was fretful. There was so much on my mind. I thought about the heat. I thought about the food. I thought about the people I would meet. I thought about how I might affect the lives of others. I thought about how my life would be affected. This flight was the beginning of a journey.

We were late arriving in Hong Kong. This meant a mad dash to the gate. We made it and calmly boarded the second leg of our flight. Thank God, it was only a couple of hours. Debbie and I arrived in Phnom Penh full of excitement. We made our way through the visa and customs process. Then, we stood at the luggage carousel and watched the endless parade of luggage. Round and round. After four times seeing the gray hard-case with the rainbow colored strap, I knew I was in trouble. We had made the flight in Hong Kong ---- but, our bags had not.

After making arrangements with the lost luggage staff, we found our host, Bill. He was waiting for us outside the airport. With a certain amount of trepidation, we left the Phnom Penh airport luggage-less.

There is something about the fearlessness of Southeast Asian drivers. The gladiators in the Coliseum had nothing on these people. The courage they show in the face of trucks, cars, and a multitude of motorbikes is inspiring. As we flinched and closed our eyes, we progressed through the city. I have to wonder the average lifespan of a moto driver, in Phnom Penh. How many times can you ride into oncoming traffic without an accident? How often can you cut across three or four lanes (oh, yeah, like there are really lanes!) of traffic and not bear the scars?

Once we arrived on the Ship of Life, we got settled in. Well, as much as you can when you have nothing with which to settle. Bill gave us a tour of the ship. Everyone was hard at work taking care of patients. It was so nice to see Marie Claire, Bill’s wife, again. There were quick introductions to all of the staff. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have us. I felt very welcomed.

As jet-lag began to overcome us, Debbie and I decided to take a nap. We slept through the afternoon thunder and lightning storm. At dinner-time, I forced myself up. Hey, I didn’t come thousands of miles to begin skipping meals! Dinner was great. Saeng, the cook, does a great job with Khmer and western food. Following dinner it was time for English/Bible study with some of the crew.

Bill studies twice per week with Jack, the electrician. It was so encouraging to see Jack working to learn the meaning of the English words, as well as making sure to get the Biblical principles of the story. He was studying Adam and Eve in the Garden. Because Bill had to step out, I helped Jack. He read about God confronting Adam, then Eve, and their game of blame-placing. Chills ran down my back as Jack’s eyes lit up. He got it. We have to take responsibility for ourselves. There is no one to blame, when we trip up. Jack is learning English. But more than that, he is learning lessons with eternal implications.

My arrival in Cambodia has given me three great lessons:

First, as we rode through the streets of Phnom Penh, I realized that even if our luggage never came, we still had more than many people. Okay, I can be sweaty in the same shirt for a few days. By the world’s standards, I am beyond rich. I am so wealthy. I have more than I really realize.

Second, I need to live more like the Cambodian moto drivers. I need to have courage. I need to step up and boldly do what I know I am to do. I can’t be concerned about the honking horns of life’s naysayers. I have someplace to go. I have Someone to serve. I can’t let the busy traffic get in my way.

Third, this life is all about God, and my relationship with Him. I can’t blame anyone else when I foul up. This deal is between God and me. I have to answer to Him. There is no one else standing there with me. The sooner I get that, the sooner I can really grow.

There is so much to tell. But, isn’t that always the way when you are on a journey?